GerIta: Lost And Found
by MirrorsSurroundMe
Summary: It was WAAAAY early in the morning when I wrote this.  Just a one shot, and I know it sucks.  But OOOOH MAN, I LOVE these 2 pairings! So kawaii desu!  Honestly, I think that K  would be a good rating, but since Hetalia is a more teenage thing...


_Desolation. Coldness. Tearful. Alone. That's what he was feeling. Without. Unholy. Fear. Screaming and grieving would do no good. A dead flower in his arms. His undying passion for the other...No longer existing. Lost. Gone. Shattered. The bud represented the lover. It's lifeless. The lover has perished. What would he do? What was going to happen? Why, he questioned. Why him, not some other person. At this point he was on his knees, broken down. There was nothing he could do. Unbelievable. This could not be the truth, no. But it was. Soon all he felt was the immense pain of it..._

With a yelp, the boy awoke. He flew a tiny hand to his head and felt around. Relief. The blossom that his sweetheart had given to him before he left was there. The grass green dress he wore was soaked. He must have been crying in his sleep. Again. This was what now, the third time? Light shined in his eyes and he tried to tell the time. He was late for his maid duties, but oh well. He never showed up on time anyway. The sun was shining brightly, the tree on his right was shading and cooling him, the birds were singing and dancing in the sky. He was alive and well. Except...

It must have been a bad day-dream. His boyfriend was not dead, he promised to come back. That was why the child waited. We would never stop waiting. That was his end of the oath they were both bound by. That and to make sweets for him once he returned. He would keep sitting by the topiary. It was beside his house, and it overlooked miles of the plain ahead. Still waiting. When it rained, he would watch from the window inside. Always waiting, wondering if today would be the day. The day that he would reappear.

Yet the horizon was still empty...

Always empty...

He waits.

Hoping.

**Centuries Later...**

A petite brunette man stared outside from his window. He was twirling a small bud in his fingers. Memories, love, a pledge. A clear blue sky, a warm yellow shine, a soft emerald wood. He was smiling. Then a tepid breeze encircled him. He breathes it in, enlightening him. Waiting, wishing, the desire to see someone. Soon, the day would come. One time or another, they would meet again. He would make sure of it. Unless...No, that was just a thought. It would not, no, could not be true. Ever. That was what the contract of words stated. Life would remain that way until that one solemn event.

He did not hear the Japanese adult come into the room. A tap on the shoulder. Startled. He spun around in surprise. Jumped a bit. Moments later, reality struck. His eyes widened and tears formed. The flower, he had let go of it. He lost it to the wind. Now it had vanished. Precious, sacred, valued at such a high price. He had to suffer the consequences of losing his betrothed. All the fond times they had shared together were with it, forgotten now. That was the one item that had so much importance to the one date when it was gifted to him...

Pushing, sobbing, running. He shoved the Asian out of his way and hurried to his chambers. He locked the door to make sure no-one followed him. Damp linens surrounded him eventually. The tender faith that he would come home...It no longer existed. Broken. Lachrymose. Torn. He was not fully living, a spirit crushed, a soul ripped n half. This had to be another nightmare. But it wasn't. This was actuality. In denial for what simulated hours, even though it was not even half an hour. He was wailing, weak at his core. He had not felt this much agony in so long...

Shrill knocking filled the room. No replies, only silence. The sound of a lock being picked also conceded. A tall German walked in. He was poised there for a second, not knowing what to do. He decided to go with one solemn option. He rushed over and gave the weeping man a hug. Stop, that was not the right word. More like a heartfelt embrace. The boy's eyes opened once more. The elder blonde wiped his tears away with his thumb. A puzzled look was on his face. With his other limb, he set something in his companion's hair. A new flower, a new memoir made. He beamed with delight and cried tears of happiness. There was love.

Before Ludwig knew it, Feliciano's lips pressed against his own.

The thing was, he was going to do the same to him.


End file.
